


Never Mine

by starshark



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Angst and Porn, M/M, Sticky Sex, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:38:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshark/pseuds/starshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blurr and "Longarm" are in a committed relationship, but Shockwave is having doubts about which identity he should truly accept. His mind wanders and he experiences nearly crippling self doubt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Mine

The blue mech stretched out beneath him was beautiful. Always beautiful. Young, fresh, and oh so eager. Especially when it came to showing affection. As he was doing now. Those little whimpers and cries of pleasure pulled in response to a grey-black length pumping achingly slow in and out of a ready valve that yearned for speed was music to the larger mech's audials. He felt every quiver, reveled in every arch of the slim body, caressing and touching and, in a way, claiming that lithe frame he'd come to memorize . But his optics were dim, his thoughts drifting. This wonderful gift writhing beneath his knowing touches and gentle thrusts wasn't really his at all. No matter how many times the racer had come to him willingly, begging for affection and love, returning with adoration and the kind of looks a youngling would give to their idol, no matter how many times they made passionate love as a pair, he knew it was in some ways a farce.

Blurr was his, and yet in no way his to claim, all at once. Every time Shockwave came to this realization, most frequently during inopportune times such as this, the ache that lanced through his spark nearly ruined any intimate moment and shredded his inner peace. He'd never once even thought to become this close with anyone, figuring it a waste of time and energy when his services and full attention were needed elsewhere during this war. That changed during his time disguised as an officer by the name of Longarm; he'd come to intimately know this young speedster under his command. Blurr. The name always rolled through him with a pleasant vibration, as if the very word itself was speeding through his processor and rattling his senses with the beat of running pedes.

He'd come to admire the willingness to prove himself, the constant need to be the best, especially when it came to speed. Shockwave usually hated cockiness, especially when it was in the form of a foolhardy Seeker whose blunders were more numerous than his successes. But the sort of pride Blurr had was different, like it was something he wasn't afraid of breaking, so unlike the fragile Starscream. He displayed his strength with a knowingness that was eons past his age, and always took his stumbles in stride, managing to get back up to his pedes and keep moving forward, because looking back wasn't an option. Sometimes the spy found himself envying that inability to see the past, the unwillingness to stop and reminisce in favor of moving towards a new day and new experiences. To some, that quality seemed immature and idealistic, but to a mech that too often brooded and locked himself away in his thoughts, as he was doing now, that sort of heady freedom sent waves of longing through his essence that he'd never once felt before. It wasn't until Blurr that he'd ever thought of being close to another, being intimate, being free with his emotions and thoughts. And yet now here they were, coming together yet again in Longarm's personal quarters, the grey mech slowly bringing the speed-hungry blue frame to overload after wracking overload.

But it still wasn't for him. None of it had ever been for him. The attraction that grew from fondness for a superior officer was just that: only for the racer's commander, not for the secret Decepticon in the guise of a mech only recently taking the title of Prime.

It was painful.

"Just a bit more, Blurr.. I'm so close.." Faster. He finally gave his lover what he wanted and moved his hips quicker, doubling over the smaller frame as he groaned softly, almost inaudibly, trying to focus and keep his disguise mechanism functioning, knowing all too well the havoc it would cause if he reverted back to his true form right then. He wasn't about to risk the disaster it would wreak, much less suffer through Blurr's agony at finding out the one person he filed all of his trust into, the one he looked up to for guidance, who gave him support and wanted him to excel, was a filthy liar and a con artist.

"Ahh— Blurr.. Blurr!" Closer, closer, right on the edge. But he couldn't let himself tip, not until he heard that all-too-familiar cry of ecstasy and felt the tight grip on his spike tighten all the more in rolling clings that loved to milk him of his own overload.

"Lo-Longarm! A-haan!"

As soon as the initial waves of undulating lining started their squeeze, he clung to his lover's frame and joined him with a cry muffled into the space between a tall spaulder and the thin throat, feeling himself tumbling into the abyss of feeling. Pulses raged across his neural net and he felt his frame locking up, the overload racking hot and heavy through him. But as he collapsed onto the form beneath him, he felt the urge to cry out in despair that once again.

It was his disguise's name that the blue mech called for in his peak, the alternate him that he wasn't even really sure was just a disguise anymore.

He buried those urges beneath layers upon layers of reason, forcing a reminder to himself that he was lucky to be like this at all with him, lucky to even be accepted as a lie. He was even luckier still to have Blurr asking for him, and not just accepting whatever moves the Prime made on his subordinate without interest in returning them. With that logic set firmly into place, he raised his helm and gave a sated smile to his lover, kissing at his lips with a content purr buzzing from his engine.

"Mmmh.. beautiful. You're absolutely stunning." A hand reached up to brush over the white faceplates he loved, optics locked onto optics before he leaned down for yet another tender press of lips.

It was these little moments he lived for, and even the yearning ache in his spark couldn't dampen the warm glow he felt when they laid together, post-processor-blowing-overload or not. All he wanted was for those few moments to string together in one constant time continuum, never allowing anything else to pass in favour of letting them spend the rest of eternity wrapped in each other's arms. Even with the depression that sometimes crippled him in knowing that he'd probably never get this chance if he wasn't the dual-opticed mech with the name of Prime, his bliss in seeing that satisfied expression crossing Blurr's face was more than enough for Shockwave--and Longarm--to survive with.


End file.
